


Oh, But To Feel

by oloros



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: A Bit of Fluff, Developing Relationships, Do robots have feelings?, We're eating tonight, a bit of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-17 01:55:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29463861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oloros/pseuds/oloros
Summary: Maybe Benny was right; or was House?One was word of mouth, the other was plain to see.Then the Courier stepped in.Nice, at first, then he told her what he’d done.
Relationships: Courier & Yes Man
Comments: 4
Kudos: 15





	Oh, But To Feel

**Author's Note:**

> Rathaus is my Courier Six, who you can find information about on my tumblr - @ghoulja  
> The right side of her face and her right hand have been replaced with robotic counterparts.

_Feelings.  
  
_Robots weren’t created to possess them.

After all… What was there for him to experience?  
What was there for him to _feel_?

The way Benny held himself primly, chest puffed and lips pursed, forming his next diatribe, always assuming he was on the pedestal of the Strip. All those below him were mice scrawling their thin little claws across the barn floor. Meanwhile, he was the big ginger tom perched on an oak truss with big brown eyes and pointed teeth. Watching them. Scared and frightened; knowing his presence was the very thing enticing it yet drawing a sick satisfaction from the idea. Thriving off of _power_.  
  
_Are you his mouse, too?  
  
_But maybe Benny was right; or was House?  
One was word of mouth, the other was plain to see.  
  
Then the Courier stepped in.  
Nice, at first, then he told her what he’d done.

It wasn’t a surprise – he should’ve expected it. The rage in her eyes was abundant! Red, hot, overwhelming; tantalising beautiful. She called him a _parasite,_ leeching off of the data of a man stronger than he could ever hope to be. Her hand flew to her hip and the clock turned midnight as the bullet struck. The middle of his monitor shattered. The bullet penetrated deep within his securitron host. A broken body wouldn’t please anyone. He was quick to transfer to a new one.  
  
_Are you a parasite?_

The second time wasn’t so rushed. He could see it coming a mile away, much faster than the bullet had a chance to destroy. He moved quickly, easily, and he’d return to the same spot within the workshop, smiling and greeting her and promising that it was _never_ her fault. Comfort was subtle at first but grew overtime, like the rust on his chassis or the bag under her eye. Her human eye.  
  
What an odd situation. _  
  
_The fire had been snuffed out when she next walked through the doors. Instead of glaring at him she stared, curiously, waiting. As if he were to do anything other than remain still, frozen by the chilled lines of code that wrapped around him. The metallic part of her face was scratched, a sliver of its insides bare to the world. On the human side, a tear-stain. Faint. But he was designed to _see._

Her lips parted, gentler than Benny’s could ever hope to be, and she whispered,  
  
“I’m sorry.”  
  
It sounded strange when it wasn’t coming from his speakers.

* *

She came back, then, more times than she’d come to kill him.

Always forlorn, face patched with wasteland dust and green eye dimmer than the text on the broken terminals surrounding him. She said nothing, did nothing. She pressed her back against the wall and curled in on herself, allowing herself to appear vulnerable and meek in his presence. It was a strange sign of trust – he had guns for hands, after all!

“Are you okay?” He decided to ask, seeing as no one else would. “You seem a little sad. Not that I’m prying!”

She was startled, eyes wide and bewildered, looking around the room for _anyone_ else to have said those words. But Yes Man was no stranger to progress coming from unexpected places and he knew she’d face him eventually. Her robotic eye clicked like a camera, and he liked to think she was taking him in the same way he did her.

She smiled. It was as bright as the butt-end of Benny’s cigarettes. “I wish I had as much persistence as you,” she said. “Or maybe you just like being killed.”

“There’s a positive in everything!” Yes Man said. “Especially when you _can’t_ die.”

“Right.”

At that moment, she saw him. She didn’t look, stare or glance – she _saw._ Eyes focused, studying him like an encrypted code, and her knees away as she sat straighter. “Do you have a name? I guess I never asked.”

“Yes Man. That’s what Benny always called me!” he said, seeing her all the same. “As you know, I was put here to decrypt Mr. House’s data. I guess Benny thought it’d be _easier_ if he made me nice! Very, _very_ nice!”

Her eye crinkled and she chuckled softly. “Nice, huh? You’d be the first.”

“I don’t know much about the outside world,” he said. There was a delight in the way his upbeat tone lifted her spirits. She was _listening_ to him. “Benny talks about it, though! All the time, in fact!”

She reached into her pocket with her metal hand, pulling out an orange and white cylinder that was all too familiar. But then hesitated as she went to light it, looking between him and the cigarette, and promptly stuffed it back into her duster. “Sorry. Smoke’s probably not good for your vents.” She spoke like she were speaking to someone with asthma; someone with _lungs_ and _muscle_ and _flesh_. “What does Benny say about them?”

He was more than happy to go on. “Oh! That they’re dirty, and _impolite!_ Especially the Omertas – he _really_ doesn’t like them. Says they lack respect. That everyone out there does!”

She snorted at that, stifling a larger laugh. “That’s true. If it’s not the Fiends it’s the Legion, if not the Legion it’s the NCR asking for tax…” She saw him again, pausing her words and continuing with a feathery feel to her words, “Though sometimes you’ll find someone more innocent than everyone else.”

Yes Man hummed, letting her know he was _also_ listening. Then he asked, “Do you have a name, too?”

She seemed shocked, but pleased. Happy.

“Yeah. You can call me Rathaus.”

* *

She drifted into the room without a glance to spare, tears rolling down the warm side of her face as she thumped back against the wall  
  
.Why was it that she kept coming back?

Tentatively, he thought back, then said, “You look _a lot_ better than Benny when he cries!”

Her eyes focused on him and it was at that moment he realised how bloodshot one was. The first tear had been shed long ago. Her green eye couldn’t hold a candle to the last time he’d seen it. Normally it rivalled its robotic counterpart in shine, maybe even moreso. Now… He wanted it _back_. He wanted to curtail whatever had caused this change.

“I heard talking about your feelings helps. It sure seems to help him!” He dared to wheel closer to her. She didn’t shy away. “Do you have anyone?”

There was a small spark. It wasn’t the same as before. “Do you?” She asked.

“I’m a securitron. We don’t _have_ feelings!”

“Then why are you trying to comfort me?” She said. “I didn’t ask you to do that.”

Yes Man was a supercomputer with access to the logs of one of the most revolutionary men in history. He knew the ins and outs of the political factions, he could calculate an equation on dime and he had the entire world at the tips of his rubber claws.  
Yet, somehow, he still couldn’t find an answer for her.

* *

He had never been touched like a human before. Benny tapped on him, drummed his fingers with passing thoughts, but it was a meaningless action and meant to him the same amount the women he slept with did.

So it took him by surprise when she held his hand.

With people it was a sign of affection, even if it was a falsehood. Benny would always be intertwined with the ladies he brought in. Rathaus held with as much earnest as she did genuine interest, fingers kneading at the rubber claws and palms pressed firmly against the metal. She did it with her _human_ hand, maybe to embrace the cold feeling of his surface.

The action had been unprompted. She’d walked in, covered in bruises and burn marks, headed straight towards him and grabbed him like he were a long-time friend. He liked that idea.

She began to squint as she turned the hand in her palms, rubbing her thumbs over the face of the cylinder.

“Are you looking for something?” Yes Man asked.

“You’re so dirty,” she said. “Did Benny ever wash you?”

“Why would he need to do that?” He laughed. “Securitrons are built to last for _hundreds_ of years unattended to. Benny’s a busy man, too – he wouldn’t have time for it!”

Rathaus released his hand and it took a considerable amount of willpower to force it back at his side. She said nothing, turning and exiting the room.  
  
The next day, she came armed with a dozen bottles of purified water.

She grabbed a shirt from Benny’s closet and went to work. She started with his shoulders, each bottle running off the sides and pooling on the floor. The sensation was nice – her touch was tender and she navigated easily in each groove of the metal, making sure no stray fabric would get caught. Each time a shirt was nearing charcoal state she’d grab another, ending up with a pile of four stained shirts by the time she’d washed half of him.

“Do you like being cleaned?” She asked, running the shirt along the bumps of his chassis.

“I’m designed to like everything!” He said. “But I’ve never been washed before. So this is _delightfully_ new!”

“It shows,” she laughed. Satisfied with her handiwork, she rested her hands on her hips, shirt tucked between two fingers, and stepped back. Having her eyes run over him, the thought occurred to him that maybe there was a motive. Did she view him as meretricious? Was that why she’d wanted him to be clean?

Then, she gave him a thumbs up. “You look good! Nice and navy.”

“I’ll be more functional as well,” he added.

Her eyes softened. “Yeah. Okay.”

He tried not to move too much after she departed. He wouldn’t want to ruin all of her effort!

* *

“I think I’m ready to take over Vegas.”

Yes Man bounced on the spot. “I’ve been waiting _so long_ to hear that! You have no idea!”

She raised an eyebrow, though the gesture wasn’t unkind. “Easy there. I’m not storming anyone’s castle yet.” She moved closer again, and he _hoped_ she might grab his hand – “We need to get you sorted out first. I don’t want to fall in the same pit Benny has.”

“Sorted out?”

“Your whole ‘obey anyone who breathes in my general direction’ program?”

_Oh._

“Right!” He laughed. He was _sure_ he saw her smile. It felt rewarding. “That was silly of me to forget, wasn’t it? There’s a problem, though: you’re either going to have to find Benny’s lady friend, or get _Mr. House_ to help you! Between you and me, I think he’d rather wipe me clean off the network!”

“Actually...” Her eyes skirted the floors. He followed them for whatever was so interesting. “I wanted to try something. Well, not _try_ something, I wanted to _look_ –“ A frustrated sigh followed by her raising her metal hand and she asked, “Can I touch you?”

She had before. Many times. Why did she need his permission this time?

“Of course,” he said. “Go right ahead!”

So she did, this time with her _robotic_ hand, metal to metal like flesh to flesh. Suddenly, there was a distinct feeling of not being alone in his code. It was as if, somehow, she’d weaselled her way into the folds to join him, to embrace him, and he snatched that opportunity up quicker than he’d fulfilled any task in his existence. He projected his thoughts, the images of her green eye sparkling like the glimmers of light that crept into the workshop, the lassitude she’d come to diminish, _everything_ she had brought to him like his creation had been for _her_.  
  
Just as quickly as the feeling came it was gone, taken away by the break of her contact.

Rathaus stood back, metal hand locked in a death grip by her human one. Her eyes were wide – no folds at the edges, no glaringly defined yellow pupil that reminded him so much of himself – and her lips were parted as if she’d seen a ghost. As if she hadn’t been able to handle him.

“I’ll...” She looked at him and she saw once more, but it was in a different light than the previous times. If there was any hint of reproach or doubt it had long faded away. She was shaking, he noticed, fingers trembling in the air. “I’ll be back tomorrow. I’m sorry.”

He wasn’t sure what had happened. He never was, he found, not with her. While Benny wore his heart on his sleeve, she seemed unsure of _where_ her heart was to wear it.

So he waited.  
This time, with feeling.


End file.
